The Princess and The Bastard Knight One Shot
by OmniKingBal
Summary: His chest and legs creating a warm shell around her body. His arm pulled her to him and their hands intertwined in front of her chest. Somehow his other arm was at an angle where he stroked her hair. That's how she came to fall into a deep slumber. One so deep she dreamed of floating away from her own body.


Hey everyone me again, and I've recently gotten into Game of Thrones so I've decided to make a one shot lemon, with my oc and my favorite gal from the series Sansa Stark. Now this is an AU oneshot fic, where Bal the young knight who was taken in by Lord Eddard Stark, he and Jon are very good friends and grew up together more so then the other stark children. Sansa is Princess of the North, Baby Rickon was named King of the North after being found by Jon and the rest, and Arya is also a Princess. Both Bal and Jon are sworn knights and Bal and Sansa have had this secret love affair for awhile now.

Rating M

Warning Lemon Ahead

The howling of the wind outside caused her to shiver despite the warmth of her chambers. She glanced towards the window as she reached to don her night robe, seeing now that the snow was falling heavier than it had been earlier.

Perhaps their departure will be delayed.

Is it wrong to pray for such?

"Your grace!" Willem's voice called from outside her door, followed by some quick knocking.

Apparently someone other than Sansa disdained his loud manner, for another voice began hushing the knight and Willem, in turn, hushed his critic right back. She moved to the door and opened it but a crack, just in time to see Bal cuffing his friend.

"Thank you, ser." She whispered, waving Bal within before leaning out to glance up and down the corridor. Thankfully it was quite empty and none but Willem saw Bal's entry.

"Am I free to go bear hunting?" Willem asked hopefully and she shook her head at the jest but gave her assent.

With that the door was closed and she barred it quickly after, turning around to find Bal staring out the window. She'd expected him to at least be looking at her but when she came behind him to rest her head against his back she could feel the worry in his muscles.

"If the snows keep up we might not be able to leave tomorrow."

"Would that be so bad?"

"With the Wall faring as poorly as we fear, every day's delay could mean the worst. I'd have left earlier if not for the wedding."

"I'd have you stay longer… for our own…"

As she spoke the words began to die on her lips, for she heard how selfish they sounded. Balthazar turned to face her then, his expression pained, and she saw that his eyes were somewhat red, as if he'd been weeping.

"Believe me, I would rather make an honest woman of you than leave here. Lord Stark raised me better than to treat you as but an object of my lust." He shook his head and closed his eyes. "He'd be ashamed of me for how I've taken such liberties with you. Now I abandon you to…"

His apologies ceased with her finger upon his lips.

"Be silent." She reached up to stroke his short beard with her free hand. "I hate that you are going and I would have you stay. I would marry you on the morrow rather than wait, but the world doesn't offer us that."

These weren't the words she wanted to say but she did so anyways. Sansa would have their last moments together remembered with her behaving like a princess who knew her duty, rather than a girl wailing for him to stay.

I will offer him strength, not the tears of a child.

For the Wall had to be set to rights and Bal could help to do so. She would never have asked this of him but trying to stop Bal now, when his heart was set on the journey, would only serve to upset them both.

The only comfort she had was that Bal's travels could help raise his status in the North and that, combined with his new lordship, might make their love more acceptable to the other lords. The hope that a wedding would one day come to pass inspired her actions tonight.

"Let's pretend, just for tonight, that you aren't leaving." Sansa looked deep into his onyx colored eyes. "That the wedding today, it was ours. Today we went before the heart tree and we were joined and tonight is our wedding night and we're meant to spend it together…"

"Spend it here?" Bal gazed at her in disbelief. "The whole night?"

His eyes sought the door then but Sansa pulled his face down, kissing him in such a way that she hoped he could feel how much she needed this. Whatever struggle was in him did not last long after she'd parted her lips to slip her tongue into his mouth and found his doing much the same. Their kissing was how it should be. Not so hard that they acted wanton yet with enough hunger that their passion was laid bare. Their fought to stay together, neither wanting their lips to be left alone long. Bal's hands found her hips to help steady his pursuit of her. His tongue was moving with hers as his hands moved up and through her hair. Sansa pressed herself against him and repeated the same words within her head over and over.

This is our wedding night. No one else's, it is ours.

She broke the kiss then, Bal's mouth struggling to find hers but then he sought her neck instead. The feeling of his lips against her skin sent a tremble through Sansa, almost choking off her words.

"Lay beside me, Bal . No bathhouses, no sneaking about, it would be so lovely…"

He tensed some at that, backing away and once again looking to the door as if at any moment the bar would life and it would open all on its own with the entire northern court gaping at them. They wouldn't be of course, as half were probably still drinking in the Great Hall while the rest were finding their beds or enjoying the beds of others.

To break Bal of his foul notions, she quickly undid her night robe and let it fall away from her shoulders. Sansa had wanted the reveal to seem elegant, perhaps even graceful, yet she feared her hurried movements were clumsy if anything.

If Bal had any complaints he did not air them. Instead his eyes widened as they roamed freely down her body, the door apparently having been forgotten.

"Sansa, gods. You're beautiful."

"I thank you, ser." She backed away towards the bed. "I'm sorry, I mean my lord husband."

To her chagrin Bal let a laugh break free from his lips at that. Hardly the reaction she'd wanted, yet his eyes still followed her descent upon the bed with a look of hunger she knew all too well. Then his face changed as he took a step towards her.

"Say that again." He spoke softly, unclasping his cloak and letting it fall to the floor. "Call me that again."

"So you can laugh at me?" She feigned anger as she climbed further back in the bed. "My lord husband thinks me something to laugh at."

Bal smiled widely then, his cheeks flushed as if the room was unbearably hot. Then he was pulling upon his own clothing. Usually Sansa helped him in doing such but she was struck by a whim. Since she'd undressed all by herself, she decided he could do the same. As he bared his chest to her she shivered in excitement at the sight and crawled beneath the blankets. When he accidentally kicked one of his boots underneath her bed she laughed.

"I'm bad at that." He sighed.

"And slow at joining your wife in our bed."

That had the effect of quickening his pace, until only his small clothes remained. As Sansa pulled the blankets up to her chest she took in the sight of him, committing as much of his body to memory as she could. In the same way the dim candlelight had cast shadows across her shift, it did complimentary things for Bal's bare skin. The lines of his muscled chest and stomach stood out all the more, his scars blending in with the rest of his skin. Her usual lust for him paled to what she felt when looking upon Bal's body now.

Now I look at my lord husband.

The other part of my heart.

Why she lowered herself until the blankets were over her head, she couldn't say at first. The blanket was across her face like a veil she decided, one only Bal could lift. Her breathing was loud enough to silence most of his movements but then the bed dipped some and the covers lifted at her side.

Then his bare chest was against her arm and a warm tingling moved down her body. She turned to face him and his arm went around her as she did so. Her leg brushed against his hardness beneath his small clothes and she shivered again before his mouth found hers.

The kissing and roaming of their hands lasted some time before their lips broke away and Bal traced a warm line along her neck and up to the hair on her temple. She stifled a gasp as he kissed gently at her ear, the feel of his breath causing her to writhe some. Sansa found his own neck and tried to lose herself in the feel of his skin, the smell of him. Bal's kisses seemed to go on forever until he had touched every part of her face and neck. Before long, she felt her lips becoming raw from all the activity.

When he reached to push the straps of her shift down her shoulders, she did all she could to help. She felt it fall away from her bosom and whether it was Bal or she that urged the shift downward, it didn't matter. Suddenly she was bare beneath the blankets and wherever Bal's hands cupped and caressed, his mouth soon followed.

She gasped when his lips moved across her breasts, squirming when they kissed and sucked upon her nipples. She only felt a moment of doubt when his kisses continued further down her body, hot breath steaming softly against her thighs.

"Bal." She whispered, grasping at his hair to try and pull him away but his tongue had already found where she was wet. "You don't have to-"

She covered her mouth to stop the cry that came forth. Her fingers no longer pulled at his hair and instead pressed against his head, urging him to continue on. This had become a little game for them she noticed; Sansa would tell him that he didn't need to use his mouth to pleasure her yet he would do so anyways. She would insist on not wanting the lord's kiss at first until he started licking and her protests would soon transform into begging and pleading for him to continue. She always felt embarrassed afterwards, telling Bal that he didn't have to do it again, all the while secretly hoping he would.

Now Bal kissed there more forcefully, pulling her away from her thoughts. That amazing feeling built within her chest until the dam broke, with the feeling radiating out in all directions. Her hands grasped at the sheets, running them back and forth as her pleasure came upon her, her jaw screwed shut to make her cry quieter.

Sansa lost sense of herself but knew he had returned her side when she felt his breath upon her face. When she looked up into his eyes, barely visible in the faltering light, she trembled at the look he gave her.

"I love you, Sansa." He said before he kissed her.

It was not wanton or modest. It was a kiss that told her without words what he'd just said. When it broke, she pushed push back on him until he was lying flat. Bal resisted some as he was obviously eager to take her right then but she persisted. He was hard and stiff against her thigh and she reached to take his manhood in her hand, just as Myranda had instructed her. Bal tried to push her hand away but she pressed on until she felt him in her grasp.

"Sansa… it's more proper for me to..." He rasped and she thought he was convincing himself as much as her.

"If I am yours then you are mine." She kissed him, her tongue moving against his before she pulled up again. "I'm happy to do it, Bal. Let me have you…"

Then more of Myranda's words had come back to her.

"Men are like horses, Sansa." Myranda had smiled to say so. "The best ones need to be ridden once in a while or they become too wild."

Sansa couldn't picture Bal as a horse when she began to lower herself upon him. Her eyes instead gazed longingly upon his face, her heart swimming when it twisted into an expression of sweet agony. She focused on the pleasure of pressing him within her until, after what felt like an eternity, she was done. Her thighs came to rest upon the hot skin of his hips and she had to bite her own hand to keep from crying out at the feeling of how deep he was inside of her. Her free hand traced a line over his nipple as she took a deep breath and began to move. Up then down, forward and back, Myranda had suggested trying different things while atop him, to see what struck her fancy.

"Don't you mean his fancy?" Sansa had asked in confusion. "Aren't I doing this to pleasure him?"

"Well yes, you want your stallion to feel good as you thoroughly break him in, ensuring his loyalty to you forever and ever and all that nonsense." Myranda waved her hand in dismissal at that, like it was only an afterthought to a much larger goal. "But the best part of being on top is that you are the one in charge. It's no longer him giving you pleasure but rather using him for yours…"

"That sounds rather selfish."

"Oh, a charge men are always innocent of, aren't they?" Myranda and Sansa had giggled a bit at that.

"Some men are just not meant to be lovers Sansa, whether because of attitude or idiocy. Sometimes women must be selfish to get what they need." Myranda had continued with a scoff but then her look softened some. "With your knight though… well, I don't wish to speak for Ser Bal, but let me just say, I doubt he'll have any protests. The sight of a beauty such as you, doing such a thing… it will set his blood aflame, I promise."

"Bal says he likes the way I-I look… during…" Sansa's face burned then when she realized what she had been saying.

Myranda was always very clever at getting details from her about Bal's prowess and Sansa found herself sometimes excited to share such things. Yet she'd balked when Myranda would ask about the size of Bal's manhood, or whether Sansa had ever been one to share her mounts with others.

That perverse questioning fell far away now, for her love was groaning loading below her.

Sansa moved faster and harder with each passing moment, clutching her mouth tightly when Bal did as Myranda said, his hands groping at her breasts in a pleasing way. She exhaled in excitement and a gasp escaped from Bal as she did so.

As hard as he was, and as full as she felt right then, Myranda had been right. The greater ecstasy came from the knowledge that Bal was in her power now. The control she now had over her and Bal's bodies was something she'd never felt before. It was her movements that made her want to scream and it was her that made Bal cry out softly. The whole thing made her feel powerful and, unlike the authority of a crown, this was a power she felt no guilt in wielding selfishly. She freely touched Bal's skin, taking in the contours of his chest, feeling the strain in his muscles there as he moved his hands down to grab her hips.

She was wild and wanton and lustful but she faced no judgment from Bal. Sansa allowed herself to feel beautiful and vulnerable, knowing that no one would take advantage of her because of it. She was alone with the man that she loved and she could be a harlot all she wanted. In fact, Bal seemed to love it.

He had started to buck beneath her, meeting her movements with thrusts of his own. She became tired from all her efforts though and felt herself collapse upon his chest in fatigue but Bal's arms wrapped around her back and he thankfully took over their movements. Bal held her body still as he drove himself upwards inside of her harder and harder, their grunts becoming drowned out in each other's mouths as they kissed.

Somehow she became close again, even though she had just found her peak a short while ago, seemingly riding the soft pleasure that usually came afterwards into another sweet release. She exploded when his hips almost lifted her off the bed, Bal having finally found his own release too. His hands moved down from her back to grip her hips tightly, holding his hardness as deep as he could within her.

One day a child from this… not tonight… but some day please…

They lay panting against one another after he had finished. She made no movement to get off of him and he showed no desire for her to do so. Laying her head in the crook of his sweaty neck was comfortable enough for her.

"Was I good?" She asked, running her fingers over his lips. "I mean, my riding…"

"Your riding?" Bal laughed. "Am I a horse?"

"Stop it." She slapped lightly at his chest, trembling some as she felt him jerk within her.

"My apologies." He kissed at her forehead. "Your riding was amazing, everything I could've wanted. Just like you… my wife."

She smiled and let his mouth find hers again. Once again, their kissing led to something more, only this time Bal rolled so that he was atop her. Though she had enjoyed the sense of power immensely, she realized then that having Bal atop her made her feel loved and adored in a way that riding just didn't.

Both have their merits, I suppose.

The night was theirs. The bed was theirs. Their endurance was tested in a way that it had never been before. She'd found her sweet release once again while Bal would do so twice more. The soreness she had tried to ignore bid the end of their passion after that, both of them quite exhausted.

They kissed for some time after but they had thoroughly robbed each other of any strength to do more than that. Sansa curled beside him, her body bare and covered in sweat against his, her face resting upon his rising chest, their legs intertwined pleasantly. As tired as they were, sleep did not seem to find them for a while.

For they talked long after, speaking of things that made them smile and laugh rather than worry, Sansa enjoying the way Bal's chest would vibrate beneath her when he chuckled. She talked of how Maege had sent for her daughter Lyanna to foster at Winterfell, which Sansa had thought a wonderful idea since the youngest Mormont girl was of an age with Arya.

"It will be good for her to have friends who aren't knights and squires." She smiled to think of it. "And Lord Wyman means for his granddaughter Wylla to become my second lady-in-waiting. He speaks so highly of her Bal, I'm so excited. She's supposed to arrive with the next caravan of supplies from White Harbor."

The arrival of those young daughters of the North was welcome enough, yet it was truly Mya Stone she wished would come soon. Ideally her friend was already underway from the Gates of the Moon.

"It's good that you'll have so many ladies about the castle but I wonder if you'd have time to tend to some of the young men as well." Bal ran a thumb across her cheek and against all reason she swooned at the simple touch. "I speak of Ser Gendry. He's brave, Sansa. Brave and strong, but more importantly he's very loyal to Princess Arya…"

"I believe she carries a torch for the ser. I catch her often gazing at him…"

"Well… I don't know about that, but I do know he can be of use to the Starks. Lend him some coin to armor himself… he'll probably be able to smith it himself in truth. Perhaps have him teach his craft to others in the Winter Town and gift him a horse for all his hard work. Just give him the chance to be the knight he wants to be…"

To hear Bal so concerned for a hedge knight he barely knew was touching. If not for the ache she felt below, Sansa may have been tempted to take him inside her again.

More than his chivalry and his bravery, more than his looks and his muscles, more than the way he holds me and the way he makes love to me… that's what I love most about Bal.

That he is so selfless…

"Try and do some honor to Podrick as well." Bal continued. "He's a good lad, more capable than you would think to look at him. If Lady Brienne was not so attached to him, I'd be tempted to take him as a squire myself."

"Oh you couldn't do that to her." She scolded him gently. "But I'll treat them well, there's no need to worry on that-"

"You must keep the peace with Princess Arya too."

That had made Sansa rise off of Bal's chest and frown. It annoyed her to hear Bal say such a thing for he knew better than anyone how disrespectful and hurtful Arya acted towards her. She began listing all the examples of her sister's foul acts when Bal silenced her by cupping her face and running his thumb on her cheek.

"Let that all be in the past. Please, Sansa, you two were doing well enough before I came along. Remember, you are the older sister so you do not have the luxury of impatience like Arya does. Just promise me you'll allow the little she-wolf to train and that you'll be fair and patient with her. She's sworn she'll do much the same already."

"Arya swore to be patient with me?" She asked incredulously.

"Well… that she'd try her best at least."

That had earned him another smack to his chest, which he answered by touching his fingers to a place he knew made her jerk and cry out in laughter. In the end she swore to what he asked, if only to put his mind at ease. After that their talk turned to simpler things.

She spoke of how she intended to have Arya and Rickon take up their lessons with a maester again. He asked whether or not he looked better with a longer or shorter beard and Sansa made sure Bal knew her position on that. Bal told her of how his personal hero growing up had been Aegon I Targaryen , the Conqueror, and she shared how she had once loved Florian and Jonquil, but after her experiences with Ser Dontos, she found herself thinking more of Lady Shella and her Rainbow Knight.

When she did sleep, it was with her back pressed tightly against him, his chest and legs creating a warm shell around her body. His arm pulled her to him and their hands intertwined in front of her chest. Somehow his other arm was at an angle where he stroked her hair.

That's how she came to fall into a deep slumber. One so deep she dreamed of floating away from her own body, finding another shrouded all in black. Hiding in a place of peace and quiet.


End file.
